Unnecessary Vector
by Primsong
Summary: In which the Second Doctor, Jamie & Victoria find his old acquaintance the Meddling Monk meddling once again, this time with Isaac Newton.
1. Chapter 1

**Unnecessary Vector**

_Circumductus_

**1. **

"Come along, Victoria," the Doctor was saying as Jamie went ahead of them and gratefully climbed back into the TARDIS, "What are you looking at?" They were all tired from the long day of exploring the fledgling city of Cambridge and were ready for a rest.

Victoria gestured down the street their alleyway intersected with. "There's someone shouting over that way. It sounded like they might need help." Even as they paused there they could all hear it, the pounding of feet and raised voices, many angry, one man's voice protesting, frustrated and fearful.

The Doctor reached for her hand and gave it a light tug. "I'm sure it's no business of ours…" The TARDIS was neatly parked behind a heap of baled rags and well-hidden where it was but he didn't like the idea of a crowd suddenly coming upon it. Alleyways were notorious for attracting people on the run, and he really didn't want to get tangled up in anyone's legal system just then, and certainly not the one of the era they were in. He gave her hand another tug and this time she came along with him, though reluctantly.

They were nearly to the door when there was a pounding of feet behind them and as surely as if he had known they were there, a middle-aged paunchy man in the clothing of one of the college teachers came pelting straight at them.

He looked up from an object on his wrist that he'd been focused on and visibly startled to see them with the TARDIS, skidding in the mud and muck of the alley as his limbs shot out akimbo.

Victoria had started to go in but stopped, looking back at this unusual figure, effectively blocking the Doctor's way. He gave her a nudge, while offering the wheezing scholar a dismissive polite nod and smile. The smile gave way to astonishment as two things happened: the gasping man clasped his hands and cried, "A TARDIS! Heaven save me!"

And the Doctor recognized the wristband the man was wearing as being of Gallifreyan make. "Who are you?" he snapped.

The mystery man looked back at where the mob was rapidly closing in on the alley. "Let me in! Please, I beg you for the love of God, hide me!"

"Get in, quick!" said Victoria. The Doctor frowned at her invitation, but stepped aside and allowed the stranger to go in, quickly following. The man was already ahead of him, leaping to hit the door controls as Jamie gaped at him.

"Who's this?"

"I'm the Scholar," the man said as the doors shut out the sound and stench of the cold alley. He lowered himself to a bench, trying to catch his breath. "And that lot would've no doubt tried to do me significant harm if you hadn't helped me. My thanks."

"You're welcome," said Victoria politely. She and Jamie began pulling off their coats to hang them up. The Doctor was still standing by the closed doors, frowning at their strange visitor.

"The Scholar?" he said carefully. "Never heard of you. What are you doing here, and how did you get here in the first place?"

"I had my TARDIS, of course," the Scholar said, digging the heel of his hand into his side as he slowly caught his breath. "My own TARDIS, that is. Gone now."

"Gone? What do you mean, gone?"

"Gone! I came back to it one day and it was gone. Just… gone, poof!" He waved some fingers through the air.

"So you were looking for it? Is that how you found us?"

"Of course! Why would I be expecting another Time Lord to come by? The odds are…well, you know them. Extraordinary. This," he tapped his wrist, "led me here, but this TARDIS isn't mine."

"Obviously," the Doctor said.

"So you're the same kind of people?" Jamie asked curiously.

"I haven't decided if I'd claim him yet," the Doctor replied dryly.

"You have a TARDIS too?" Victoria was intrigued.

The Scholar didn't answer, but leaned back and flapped the layers of his scholarly robes a little, looking around. "An old Type-40? You've been traveling for some time," he said. "Or something. " He winked at the Doctor. "I won't ask too many questions, if that's what you're worried about, I think you and I may have something in common."

"And what would that be?" asked the Doctor coldly. He crossed his arms. "I'm still half-inclined to toss you back out." He glanced up at where the scanner was now showing a dozen men poking around the rag-bales and discussing the police box. They had ropes with them and bundles of wood.

The Scholar followed his gaze. "I see you've a healthy suspicion towards your countrymen. Not too welcoming of them, are you? I'm not the on assignment from that Council or anything if you're wondering. Quite the contrary."

The Doctor kept his arms crossed. "Did I ask?"

Victoria and Jamie looked at one another. 'What council?' she mouthed silently at him. Jamie shrugged.

"You wouldn't really throw me back out there, would you? A fellow traveler, a man in need, _miserere_?" He looked up at the scanner again. "You know what those men would do to me?"

"Burn you at the stake, I expect," the Doctor said. "For heresy, judging by their demeanor and equipment."

The Scholar shook his head. "Horrible, isn't it. Primitive and uncivilized."

"You aren't going to really send him back out, are you?" asked Victoria a little timidly. She looked sick at the very thought of it. "I mean, you wouldn't, would you?"

"I won't be any trouble," the Scholar assured. "Mayhap I might even be some company for you."

"I don't need company…" he looked over at Victoria and gave a little resigned sigh. "But I suppose you can stay. For now."

"Oh bless you!" Their guest broke into a relieved smile. "You don't know how long I've been trapped here in this plebian dunghill of a town. It will be a privilege to travel with you."

"I didn't say you were traveling with us."

"But you've got to help me! As I said, I've lost my TARDIS, at least help me find it again."

The Doctor raised a brow at him. "I'm still wondering what exactly you are doing here in Cambridge in the first place. The late 1600s on Earth were hardly the best era for holiday travel."

The Scholar threw the question back at him. "What were _you_ doing here?"

"Seein' the foundin' of the college," Jamie put in.

"You're a bit late for that one. It's 1677, you know. Not even the 1500s. Chronometrical difficulties?"

The Doctor looked irritated and waved the topic away. "You haven't answered my question." He steepled his hands on his chin and considered the Scholar. "And from your comment, I assume you are referring to that portion of this particular hall of learning that is known as Trinity."

"Of course! What, you can't have missed it by that much! The original college was founded a good four hundred years before," he chuckled.

Jamie and Victoria looked at one another then both looked at the Doctor.

Again, he ignored their confusion and addressed himself to the Scholar. "This particular time does, however, have someone of note. Newton, wasn't it?"

"Oh yes," the Scholar said evasively. The Doctor tapped his steepled fingers on his chin again thoughtfully. His guest was now looking around at them with a strange little smirk on his face, like a boy who knows where the sweet biscuits are hidden but won't tell.

"Newton was certainly ahead of his time," the Doctor noted carefully. "That does make him of interest to people…like us."

"Oh yes!" the Scholar leaned forward eagerly. "He's brilliant, you know. Far ahead of the others around him. All he needed was a little encouragement, a little guidance to get him going."

"Ah!" the Doctor raised a brow. "And you were able to give him that?"

"Indeed, though…" The Scholar looked up at the scanner, watching as the men outside conferred together. "I ran into a little interference."

"Interference?"

"With Isaac. He was just on the verge of discovering the electrical properties I'd been laying out for him, and that goatish lout Hooke had to cause a row. Hooke's the fellow who keeps trying to claim all of Isaac's work as being his own, you know, the scurrilous dog."

"Robert Hooke, yes…" the Doctor said. "Do continue. What's this about electrical properties?"

"Oh just child's play, really. But with a mind like Newton's you can see what a great change this would be! Can you imagine? Why, the men of Earth might have had microtechnology years and years ahead!"

The Doctor went very still, though his face retained its look of polite interest. "Years and years. Yes, I can see that. Centuries would be more like it."

"Yes!"

"And the…heresy?"

"Oh that," the Scholar said dismissively. "Hooke came across some of my experiments. Nothing but a prying knave, that's what he is. Wouldn't surprise me at all if he picked the lock. It's difficult to cobble some of these principles together out of such rough equipment you know."

"And he took it for…"

"The usual. Sorcery or some such. Superstition." The Scholar shrugged, examining the end of his sash.

The Doctor tilted his head inquiringly. "Alchemy, perhaps?"

"Oh, yes, yes that was it. Alchemy. What difference does it make?"

"So…_you're_ the one who interrupted Newton's studies and turned him into an Alchemist?"

"Nothing of the sort. I was turning him into a trained submicronic engineer if I'd just had the time. That pestilent _blaggard_ Hooke… Well, you can see! It's too late to fix it now. I'll have to go back and try again."

"What do you mean?"

"What do you mean what do I mean? You know what I mean. Try again. I thought I was out of luck when my TARDIS went missing, but now that you're here I see it'll all come out in the wash."

"Now that I'm here?"

"Yes. You'll take me back."

"I think not."

"What? Surely you see how important this is? If I can just go back just a couple decades I can deal with Hooke, possibly even replace him in his position at the college. Or better yet, a little tweaking on the Anglican church might be in order. That would prevent it even being a heresy."

The Doctor looked at him with growing dismay. "Tweaking? The Anglican church?"

The Scholar snapped his fingers. "You're right! That would be too complicated with that Reformation whatnot going on at the same time. If we went back to, let's see…the third or fourth century we could ensure the instatement of the Arian theology instead of the foundational Trinitarian view…though that might change the name of the college…"

The Doctor glowered at him. "No, I don't think you'll be changing the name of the college anytime soon. You've done quite enough damage already."

The Scholar puffed out his cheeks. "Damage? You call advancing the future of man 'damage'?"

"The course of history would be better left without such advancements."

"But think! Already Newton's brought out Calculus! He'll polish off his planetary rotations and studies on light soon. All he needs is a little more work. All that drudgery man would be saved, years of mapping by hand, communicating with mere scraps of paper sent by ship…! Wonderful…"

The Doctor gripped the edge of the console. "It's terrible, that's what it is! How could you even consider it? Why, what if you accidentally changed core events…?

"It would all work out in the end. That's a risk to be taken, for the greater good. I'm just improving things, helping them along."

"I've heard quite enough! And I would thank you to be leaving my own ship posthaste if I weren't afraid you'd do even more damage..."

"Doctor," Victoria interrupted hesitantly. She pointed up at the scanner. "The men, they've gone."


	2. Chapter 2

**2.**

"Doctor?" the Scholar said. He stood up, suddenly angry and florid. "Doctor? You're the Doctor!" he pointed a finger at him. "You're that unmentionably miserable rouge who abandoned me!"

The Doctor straightened his back and put up his chin. "And you used to masquerade as a Monk."

"You…you…!" He pointed a finger at him, going even redder in the face. "Do you know what I went through? Do you have any idea the deprivations I went through in that primitive monastery…and then you had the audacity to leave me in that horrible ice-age…"

The Doctor fingered his coat lapel as if it were suddenly very interesting. "Oh yes. I do recall that now. Your dimensional stabilising circuit. How did you fix that, anyway? And then it was, let me think…the directional unit? My, my. That must have made your journeys quite remarkable."

The Scholar glowered. "I shan't give you any more to gloat about. In fact, you owe me!"

The Doctor picked a bit of lint off his coat. "Do I?"

"I demand you take me where I need to go, you deserve to give me that much." His eyes suddenly went wide and he pointed at him accusingly. "You're behind my TARDIS being missing, aren't you?"

"Nothing of the sort. Why would I do that?"

"Tell me what you did with it!"

The Doctor looked affronted. "I did nothing. To be truthful I didn't even know you were here."

"You lie."

"Not generally, no."

"Take me back!"

"Absolutely not!"

"I demand it!" The Scholar reached into his robes and produced a small weapon.

The Doctor stopped and considered it cautiously. "What is that?"

"You know what it is."

The Doctor frowned at him sternly. "And why exactly are you carrying a weapon like that? It's not only dangerous, it's entirely in the wrong era… it isn't even from the right planet."

"And you always go out only armed with local technology?" He ran a hand along the side of it and a line of light followed his fingers. It hummed, and his voice went low and dangerous. "I want you to take this ship back. All I'll do is adjust things a little, so Isaac and I aren't heretics, and so I can find out who took my TARDIS."

"Rubbish!"

He pointed the weapon at the Doctor. "You'll do what I ask."

He drew himself up. "I won't be threatened!"

"This isn't a threat." He suddenly swung around, Jamie and Victoria instinctively grabbed onto one another, backing to the wall as he lifted it in his hand. "This is a promise."

The Doctor started forward and the Scholar feinted at the trigger. He stopped. "Which one goes down first, Doctor? You aren't stranding me again."

"You wouldn't."

"Last chance. Set the coordinates."

"Absolutely not."

He touched the trigger.

Victoria screamed and tried to catch Jamie as he fell.

"No!" the Doctor cried as his young friend collapsed to the floor. He was at Jamie's side in a flash, helping Victoria lower him, turning him and anxiously checking for a pulse. He looked up again and his eyes were terribly dark. "What were you thinking!" he spat. "He's only got one heart…!"

"Does she?" the Scholar said without any change in his expression. He turned the weapon to where Victoria now knelt on Jamie's other side, her hand cushioning his head. She looked up at him, her eyes round with fear.

The Doctor gave him a look like thunder. The Scholar hesitated, but only for a fraction.

"I really don't want to do this," he said in a conversational tone. The strange gun in his hand didn't waver from Victoria. "But I suppose I can manage to get used to a new TARDIS if that's what it comes to. It's such a shame, what a person must stoop to in surviving these primitive eras."

Jamie gave a small whimpering moan. Victoria and the Doctor both tightened their hold on him, though whether to comfort or protect it was hard to say.

"Now. I believe you were about to set those coordinates for me."

The Doctor looked down at Jamie, rather than meeting the Scholar's eyes. His shoulders lowered in resignation. "It seems you have me at a bit of a disadvantage. Put away your weapon, I'll set the coordinates."

"No, I think I'll keep it right here. But I'm sure that won't interfere too much. Come to think of interference, I seem to remember you were a rather skilled interferer yourself."

The Doctor carefully moved towards the console. "I was only trying to restore the natural balance of history."

"And I was _only_ trying to improve it."

"With an atomic bazooka? Against Vikings?"

"I'm not adverse to pressing an advantage where it's warranted. Like here, for instance. It's quite simple: you have a TARDIS and I need one, you have humans with you that you apparently care about and I have a weapon that can, regretfully and only if necessary, kill them. Ta!"

The Doctor reached for a lever.

"Ah-ah-ah!" chided the Scholar cheerfully. He turned the gun back towards Victoria. "Don't even think it. You know, we may have to go about this a little differently. I can see you're still plotting how to outmaneuver me, and I don't care to be outmaneuvered a third time. Come away from that console, Doctor."

He waved him back towards the others and considered a moment. "Leave the boy."

"But…" Victoria began.

"You and the good Doctor will come with me."

"But…Jamie…" she kept her hands where they were, one cushioning Jamie's head, the other in his hair.

The Scholar considered her wide-eyed distress over leaving her wounded friend and hesitated. "Oh…oh very well!"

Grateful for at least a little of that nearly universal effect pretty girls in distress could bring, the Doctor moved quickly to punch a switch on the wall, which obediently exuded a bed. He took Jamie's shoulders. "Take his feet if you can, Victoria. Very good, now careful…"

They carried him between them over to the bed. "The infirmary would be a better choice," the Doctor pointed out reasonably as they settled him there.

"They stay here!" the Scholar said impatiently. "You show me where your tools and supplies are."

"I could just direct you…"

"No, you'll come with me. I don't trust you near that console just now."

"Oh, well, I don't like guests wandering anyway, they have the most annoying tendency to get lost," the Doctor said, leading the way to the hall.

"Does this lock?" the Scholar was looking at the door.

The Doctor looked annoyed. "I suppose. I can't say I've needed to find out."

"No matter. Girl…"

"My name's Victoria," she said with a slight quaver.

"Victoria then. Ah, yes, I can tell you're a sensible young child. You don't want your friend, yourself or heaven forbid, the Doctor here to be shrugging off this mortal coil just yet do you? Of course not. You'll stay right here and tend to the boy. Interfere and….." he trailed off significantly with a melodramatic face.

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "You know you aren't really cut out for this villainy, are you? Why do you persist in it?"

The Scholar looked offended. "You should have seen me in _Merchants of Venice_, why I had two rounds of ovations." He nudged the Doctor with his weapon, making the other Time Lord step back into the hall. "And this is far more important to me than any pound of flesh."

"But you could just ask nicely," the Doctor suggested, carefully holding his hands up.

"Would you take me when I want if I did?"

"Well, no…"

The weapon swung back around to point into the room where Victoria sat at the end of the bed. Her eyes went wide and still.

"All right, all right. You've made your point!" the Doctor said. "Watch where you point that. Take care of Jamie, Victoria…don't do anything I wouldn't do. This way to the tool room…let's get this over with."

--

"Victoria…" Jamie whispered, after a few moments. His eyes were still closed.

"Jamie?" her voice trembled with relief that he was speaking.

"Hush, now," Jamie whispered. "It might be best if we stay quiet."

"Are you…?"

"My head feels that stuffed w' wool, an' I'm weak as a lamb, but I'm here. Where's that man?"

"He's over with the Doctor. He says he'll…he says the Doctor must do what he wants or he'll hurt you and I."

"Aye, poor Doctor. Usin' his great heart again' him."

Victoria waited but Jamie was quiet again. She shook him slightly. "Jamie?"

"Hush," Jamie repeated softly. His eyes flickered open just long enough to meet her worried gaze. "I'll be all right, but I'll pretend I'm not, see?" he whispered. "He'll not kill a wounded man, I think, for all his blusterin'." He closed them again.

"Newton," he said.

"What about him?"

"He was…what did he do? Shot an apple of o' his son's head, wasn't it?"

"That was William Tell. You're probably thinking of the apple that fell on him. It's a story he used when talking about his studies on gravity."

"So he invented gravity?"

"It didn't need inventing," she smiled.

"But he did somethin' about it?" Jamie persisted.

She took his hand, studying his fingers as she thought about it. "He wrote about it, and plenty of other things, mostly about motion and light and mathematics, I think. My father had some books about him."

"You read them?"

"I should have," she said, remembering her father's library with some regret.

Jamie looked up at her. "Sorry, lass," he said softly. "Didna mean to upset…"

She shook her head. "No, that's all right…"

They both paused. Jamie shut his eyes and lay back. "He's comin'."

Likewise hearing the returning steps, Victoria leaned over him as if very concerned.

The Scholar came back through the doorway, waving the Doctor past him to the console. "That's far enough, Doctor! Wait." He considered the young people. "Is he waking, then?"

"No, he's only spoken briefly, something like a delirium," Victoria said as Jamie lay still beneath her hand.

The Scholar cocked his head at them suspiciously. "Wish I had one decent rope," he muttered. "I've gotten too used to this era, there's never a lack of rope. Eh, you don't happen to have any?" He considered her face and shook his head. "Well, we'll make due, won't we? You'll both still behave yourselves either way."

"What did he mean, you used to be a monk?" Victoria asked, stroking Jamie's limp hand. She wanted to turn the conversation away from ropes.

"A man of the cloth! Oh yes." the Scholar said puffing out his chest a little. He went over to supervise whatever it was the Doctor was now doing with some wires and a metal box, then looked back at her, apparently satisfied.

"Meditations upon the afterlife being my specialty," he continued with a smile then frowned as he seemed to remember something. "Yes, yes I was. No one questions a wandering friar either, you know. Well, I take that back; they certainly do here. That rather inconvenient Reformation made me choose another occupation for the time being."

"So you weren't a real monk."

"Is your Doctor there a real doctor?"

"Maybe," she said uncertainly. "But one thing I do know is he can be trusted… and he doesn't go about stealing other people's property or threatening their friends!"

He chuckled at this. "Ah, the pretty lady has a bit of a temper! _Tanta stultitia mortalium est. *_ Now, now. You mustn't hold it against me. If you were in my position you might do the same."

She smoothed Jamie's hair. "I don't think I would."

--

_*What fools these mortals be._


	3. Chapter 3

**3.**

The Scholar watched carefully as the Doctor tightened down the connector that held a wire in place on the console, running down to the metal box, but he didn't miss his fellow Time Lord's quick glances back to where his two companions were.

"They're from Earth's history too, you know. You must realize, of course, I'm only doing this out of consideration for their comfort and well-being."

"Of course. Most kind of you," the Doctor replied blandly as the other checked his work over his shoulder. "Comfort and well-being always were high priorities with you, weren't they?"

The Scholar frowned. "I don't understand why you're being so stubborn about this. Man will be so much more comfortable, well-nourished, well-equipped! I do this for everyone's comfort, not only my own."

"Ah yes. Nuclear annihilation is always such a nice, comfortable way to go."

"I'm offering them electronics, Doctor, computational devices! Not nuclear capability."

"As you say." He gestured at his work. "Is it to your liking?"

"I want those coordinate settings there to be hard-wired in."

"Hard-wired? That's not necessary…"

"Hard-wired," he repeated firmly. "So it's properly directed whether I'm here to watch it or not."

The Doctor looked up at him innocently. "Why, are you planning on going somewhere?"

"Just in case you're getting any ideas that you might stop me."

"Stop you?" the Doctor considered him in mock-surprise. "Of course you do realize it might be difficult to cover both your hostages and me at the same time. You've put yourself in a bit of a pickle, haven't you?"

"No, I think I'll be quite capable of guaranteeing both your cooperation and theirs." The Scholar smiled, shrugging his shoulders a bit like a bird preening.

The Doctor's eyes were back on his work. "I wouldn't be so confident."

"You wouldn't want to bet their lives on that, would you?"

He looked back up at him, probing his eyes. The Scholar frowned and looked away. "You aren't a cold-blooded killer, though you pretend to be," the Doctor observed.

The Scholar's frown deepened. "How would you know? Time changes all of us; you of all people must realize it. You've only yourself to blame if I've had to practice some of the sadly more violent and primitive survival skills, you must realize. And believe me, I _will_ know if you try to break your promise to take me there."

"I never promised you any such thing."

"Oh, but you did." He ran his thumb along the weapon again. "You did when you promised that lovely young lady over there that she wouldn't join the boy, and you promised that boy that he wouldn't join the rest of the _noble _martyrs of this time in dying for someone else's cause. Not directly, of course, but I'm sure that was your underlying meaning."

There was a pause. The Doctor looked down at the Scholar's hand on the weapon and found it steady. This time he was the one who looked away. "Well, I certainly hope_ that_ part of this promise can be upheld."

He continued to watch the Doctor's work carefully. "Set it back. I want two full hours in the Vortex before rematerialization."

"Two hours?" The Doctor raised his brows curiously. "You do realize you don't need more than a few minutes transferring along these lines."

"Two of them. No excuses."

He sighed and tweaked a setting. "Should I be flattered that you enjoy our company so much?"

"You mustn't think of me as a hedonist, Doctor, but I've been living in that primitive college quite long enough. A decent meal and a good hot bath, steaming hot, I tell you, and not just poured from a kettle! Ah…"

"There, is that satisfactory?"

"Quite."

"Why don't you do it yourself?" Victoria asked from where she'd been quietly watching them.

"Because he knows my TARDIS won't listen to him," the Doctor said unhappily. He sat back from his work and ran a hand through his hair.

The Scholar smiled. "At least not yet. If my own TARDIS doesn't turn up…"

The Doctor's eyes were hard. "You shouldn't even be thinking such things."

"And neither of us should be renegades either, should we? Don't we both have a touch of that…" He touched his fingers to his lips "_mwah!_ Taste of the heady wine of rebellion in us?"

"You're quite mad."

"Worse labels have been applied to me," he replied mildly. He waved the weapon towards Victoria and Jamie. "You two will stay right there, don't touch anything if you want your friend to live. Doctor, push that lever then come with me."

He stood, fingering the lapels of his coat. "Why should I?"

"Your inevitable cat and mouse games would take away from my hours of bliss. Suffice it to say I want you where I know you won't bother me. The girl can cook, I expect, but I may not have much use for the boy…" he turned the weapon back towards Jamie's prone form.

The Doctor pushed the lever.

--

Victoria sighed to herself as she set a plate of warm berry turnovers down before the Scholar's appreciative eye. He hadn't quit talking since he'd returned to fetch her, pleased with himself for some sort of 'failsafe' he'd put upon the Doctor and demanding, indeed, that she cook for him.

Stacking the dirty dishes to one side, she wiped her hands on her apron and plucked the cozy off the tea-pot. His appetite had been prodigious but appreciative with nothing but compliments for her seasoning of all three entrees, 'spicier the better! You've no idea how bland…' he carried on. She'd only paritally heard him, being far more concerned for her companions, especially Jamie whom she didn't trust to stay out of trouble.

--

Jamie lay on the small cot in the console room for a while longer than he had intended, waking abruptly from an unexpected doze disoriented about how much time had passed He frowned in frustration. Of all the times to fall asleep!

He rubbed at his chest; it had felt like being kicked by a horse - no, he thought, something much bigger than a horse. Like a mountain had fallen in and all of it had landed on his chest. He pondered the strangeness of it, that a blow which would've felled any lad - why even old Dob, his mother's uncle who was surely thewed like an oak would've fallen - yet hadn't left so much as a bruise. And while he hadn't wanted Victoria to worry, he really did feel unusually drained.

It didn't stop him from feeling vaguely guilty about it. Where was the Doctor now? He needed Jamie to watch out for him. And what about Victoria? She was a right smart lass, but still… was that Scholar an honourable man?

He slowly sat up and tried getting to his feet. That went all right; his legs worked well enough though he had to lock his knees to be sure they wouldn't buckle. Working his way along the wall, he cautiously reached the hallway and started down it, looking in every room as he went.

Wonderful smells were coming from the kitchen up ahead, the clink of dishes and the Scholar's rumbling voice, Victoria's lighter tone briefly answering. Jamie's stomach growled and he smacked it with his hand. Creeping forward he finally had to stop in frustration; the doorway was propped open and the Scholar sat at table, situated so he had a clear view of the hall.

That weapon lay by his plate.

Jamie's entire body protested even the sight of it. He pulled back.

I'm a coward, he thought. A coward and a weakling!

Nevertheless, the twin whips of conscience and pride were not enough to force him to take that chance. Maybe if the Scholar had been abusing his Victoria, rather than chatting with her over a meal he would have summoned up that drive, but he just couldn't.

Besides, he thought, as soon as he's done he'll send her back to get her out of the way. And if I'm not there then what? Will he shoot her? He rubbed his chest again. The idea of that heavy of a blow on little Victoria… He reluctantly went back to the console room where he climbed back onto the cot to think and promptly fell asleep.

--

The Scholar picked up a turnover and took a big bite, pausing to blow his cheeks in and out to reduce the heat. "I haven't had a decent meal since my own TARDIS went missing," he garbled through the bits of crust. "You wouldn't believe the slop I've had to face, girl. Or maybe you would, seeing the time you probably came from yourself, though I guess things were a bit better by then. And tea! Oh yes, more tea. No really decent tea available there either…." He paused to stuff more of the turnover in his mouth while gesturing for her to refill his cup.

"It must have been quite difficult for you," she said through a gritted smile. "More sugar?"

"Mmf. No.….Hard bread and porridge, for days," he continued, washing his mouthful down with half the cup and reaching for a second pastry. "Have you ever had porridge? The sort that still has husks and who-knows-what mixed into it… I don't ever want to see another bowl of porridge. I found some apples…" he paused to swallow again, reaching for the sugar bowl with his other hand. "Winter apples, you know…even all withered up and no taste, like eating a ball of felt, or old stockings… " He dumped a heavy spoonful of sugar into the half-full cup and held it out for more tea. "Summer wasn't quite so bad, but then the stench… Have you any apples? Fresh ones? Oh, or peaches! What I wouldn't give for a nice peach."

Victoria appeared to be giving it careful consideration as she poured the tea again. "I don't know, but I can ask the Doctor," she said, putting on her most innocent face. "If we have any he would know where they are."

"Pfff, the Doctor. Wouldn't know where anything is, I expect. Besides, he can't move from where I put him. What do you think of that?" He chortled to himself. "Oh no, he made a bad choice the day he crossed paths with_ me._"

He finished off the turnover, sat back and patted his stomach. "Ahh. You know, I might let you stay on if I end up keeping this old rattletrap of a TARDIS. You can cook for me." Stifling a belch behind his hand, he waved his fingers at her. "Home-cooking is best. Now go on, back to that boy. I can see you're fretting about him. I'm surprised he isn't waking yet, but I've only used it on two other humans and they were…and that horse, but, oh…. Go on. _I'm_ going to have that bath!"

Victoria gave him a low curtsey. "But, how will you know I won't try to, I don't know,_ do _something while you're bathing, sir?" she asked in a meek voice.

The Scholar gave her a paternal smile. "Because," he said lightly," you know the Doctor will die first, and then that Jamie-boy will die next if you do."

To his bewilderment she looked stricken at this glib announcement and suddenly began to cry into her apron. "Ohhh, ooooh, what will we doooo!"

Frowning, he shifted, distinctly uncomfortable. "Now, now, er, no need to cry…"

"B-b-but I don't even know if the Doctor's alive nooooow," she sobbed.

"Of course he is," the Scholar said, awkwardly patting her shaking shoulder.

"Ohhhh, ohhhh, if only I could even see him…!" she wailed into her apron. "Then I would know you weren't wh-what he said, that you were really a g-g-good maaaan…!"

"Of course I'm a good man! I mean," he said, "Of course, all that about killing the Doctor and …I don't really want to kill him, of course, I mean…oh, please do stop crying…"

Victoria sniffled delicately, then turned to hide her face in the Scholar's shoulder. "I j-j-just want to see him, even one more time…" she sobbed.

"Oh all right! Just…just stop those tears! I can't stand seeing a woman cry. Come on, I'll let you see him before I get my bath, and only because you made such a good meal for me, mind you…"

"Oh, thank you, th-thank you, kind sir," she whimpered, dabbing bravely at her eyes.

"Just no talking to him!"

---

"There now, stay here!" The Scholar pointed the girl back to where Jamie still lay. "Is he still senseless? Pfah. No matter. You know the consequences."

"Yes sir," Victoria said meekly, settling herself beside Jamie and feeling his forehead. "Of course, sir. I'll only do as I should, thank you sir."

After the Scholar's steps had faded, Jamie suddenly looked up at her. "About time you got back. What was all that about?" he whispered. "You haven't gone daft in the head?"

"Shh," she said, "he's gone to bathe."

Jamie stared. "He's takin' a bath?"

"Yes, a good long one apparently; he said he wanted to soak out a few centuries of dirt, whatever that meant."

"So he won't be around…"

"And we'll do as we should. Jamie, I got to see where the Doctor is! I got him to show me where he was, though just from the doorway and he didn't let us talk."

Jamie sat up, looking at her with new respect. "Is he all right? How did you do that?"

"I think so and never mind how, the point is we can go to him. We need to find a way to free him."

"What, is he locked up?"

"He's bound with something, I think; he didn't move, but he was aware of me. That Scholar only said it couldn't be undone."

"Well, we'll see about that, won't we?" Jamie quickly swung to his feet, ready to go.

"Slowly!" Victoria cautioned with a hand to his arm. "We need to be sure that horrid man is really in his bath first."

"Och, right," Jamie muttered, cautiously moving toward the door. He flattened himself against the wall, peering down the corridor, then looked back at her. "Did you really cook for him?"

"Yes, I did."

"Would y' cook for me sometime, d'ye think?"

Victoria rolled her eyes and gave him a nudge into the corridor. "Oh, go on!"

"Just askin'…"


	4. Chapter 4

**4.**

"In here," Victoria whispered, catching Jamie's sleeve as they slipped along the hallway. They could still faintly hear the Scholar singing a ribald song above the sound of his gushing bath-water, just down the hall.

The two of them slipped quietly into the room. "What is this?" Jamie wondered. The lighting was subdued and it seemed every wall had some sort of conduit running up or over or around them. In the corner a dark slumped shape carefully lifted its head.

"Jamie? Victoria!" The Doctor called quietly. "What are you doing here? Are you all right?"

Jamie noticed he wasn't really moving, just turning his head a little to be able to see them. "Oh, we're all right. But what's wrong with you? Are you tied?" He quickly crossed to his friend.

"I'll watch the door," Victoria whispered behind him. "See if you can get him out."

"No, no, don't touch anything," the Doctor said urgently as Jamie came to kneel beside him.

"But…it's only a wee wire!"

The Doctor wrists and ankles were wound about with thin silvery lines that came from a hole in one of the conduits and went back into another.

"They're filaments, and yes I know it looks quite flimsy but it's also quite effective. It's like a trigger, Jamie. If I interrupt it or even let these two here cross one another before we rematerialize we could all be lost in the Vortex. Permanently."

"What? But, that man, he would be lost with us too…!"

"Yes. A risk he obviously decided to take."

Jamie eyed the wires. "Could it be a bluff?"

"No, I'm afraid not. He knew exactly what he was doing. Though I've calculated, assuming we get out of this, dear oh dear, she's an older model, you know… yes, I think I've a way I can reconfigure the circuits so it can't be done again."

Jamie glanced back at Victoria, shifting impatiently. "Can't you do it now? Or I could, you could tell me what to do."

The Doctor gave a little smile at this eager willingness. "No, no I'm sorry. It would be far beyond you."

"But, maybe you could fix it after, even if we were in th'…the Vortex. We could get back out."

"No, I'm sorry Jamie," he minutely shook his head. "I don't think I would survive it myself. You and Victoria would be left to live our your days with that madman in the bath."

Jamie's eyes grew wider. "Y' mean… it would kill you?" He edged back, suddenly fearful he might even accidentally touch the tiny silver lines. "An' you let him do this to you?"

"Yes." The Doctor considered the filaments and raised his eyes to Jamie's again. "Inconvenient, isn't it?"

"Why?" Jamie had to ask, though he knew the answer. "Why let him tie y' down like this?"

The blue eyes looked away. "I couldn't risk him taking another shot at you, Jamie. You've a good, strong heart but it would've stopped with another charge. Victoria might not have even survived the once. I have a responsibility to her, you know." He glanced back towards her and drummed up a small smile. "And besides, where there's life, there's hope. As long as we're all alive we might come up with some manner of fixing the problems he's so determined to create."

"Isn't there anything we can do now?" Victoria asked. "How about that box he made you make up, the one you put by the console? Can we turn that off at least?"

The Doctor's brow furrowed slightly and then the sunlight seemed to come out. He suddenly smiled, barely restraining himself from a habitual cheerful clap. "Yes. Oh, well done, my girl. Yes, now listen to me, both of you. Go to that box; it slides open on the side. Inside you'll see a short, coloured wire. Pull it!"

"But won't that make that, that Vortex thing…" Jamie hesitated.

"No, no, no. It will merely break the connection to the hard-wired coordinates. Without the dominance of that new input, the TARDIS will revert to the previous ones; that would be right back when we were."

"Won't he be angry?" Victoria wondered.

"If he realizes the change, I expect so, but still, he mustn't be allowed to go back; it's going to just make a terrible mess with all sorts of tangled strings if he does."

"But his weapon…" Victoria said.

Jamie winced in agreement. "Aye, that's a problem."

"Hm," the Doctor said. "You know, he's more desperate than unreasonable; more than any of his schemes he just wants his TARDIS. You need to blame me. If he confronts you, by all means do whatever you need to do to find cover, and keep blaming me. Say I forced you to help me, or I've given up, whatever. I'm more likely to survive that weapon than you are. If he has his way, the entire natural progression of Western civilization would be thrown off, completely changed!"

"Then let him be angry," Jamie growled. "Let's go!"

"Wait!" the Doctor said, "One more thing. Victoria."

"Yes?"

"Did that Scholar rogue leave his clothing anywhere you can reach it?"

"He left 'em all in a pile," Jamie put in. "We saw them when we were comin' here, the weapon's not with 'em though. I checked."

"Good, good. Jamie, you're a quick runner. I need you to go to the third drawer on the credenza in the console room. Can you do that? You'll find something like a bracelet in the drawer. Do you remember the one the Scholar was wearing? It's just like it."

"Right," Jamie said. "Third drawer." He ran from the room.

"Victoria, I'm afraid I have something less savory for you. Would you mind checking the pockets and such in the Scholar's clothing? I need his bracelet. If he notices you, you can, oh, say you were just going to gather them up to wash or something. Being helpful. We need to swap the two of them."

---

_Can I decline a nymph divine?_

_Her voice as a flute is dulcis;_

Victoria tiptoed up to the pile of clothing and began poking through it, trying to ignore the cloud of soap-scented steam that curled her way and the raucous voice of the Scholar as he soaked:

_Her oculis bright, her manus white,_

_And soft when I tacto, her pulse is. Rorum!_

She wasn't quite sure what he was singing about but it didn't sound very proper. His tone alone brought pink to her cheeks. She turned to his robes.

_Rorum corum sunt divorum harum scarum Divo!_

_Tag rag merry derry, periwig and hatband…_

Her hand closed on something rounded, pulling it from the folds. The bracelet!

_Hic hoc horum genetivo…_

Careful to leave the pile in approximately the same shape it had been in when she'd started, she backed away with her treasure in hand.

"Hsst!"

Victoria gave a little jump, her hand going to her throat in alarm. Jamie was there behind her, with the other bracelet in hand. She put a hand to her lips and gestured at his find, that they needed to trade them. Jamie nodded, traded, then silently hovered for a moment before obeying her pointing hand and heading back to the Doctor. She turned and crept back to the pile of clothes.

_O how bella my puella,_

_I'll kiss secula seculorum…_

There! She tucked it carefully into place and pulled back. Somewhere in the bathing room the Scholar began to splash in time with his song.

_If I've luck, sir, she's my uxor!_

_O dies benedictorum! Rorum . .**_

--

Jamie tucked the bracelet into the Doctor's pocket for him. "That other one, it looked just like it."

"That's because it _was_ just like it. Almost exactly so."

"So why were you trading them?"

"Mine is broken. I haven't used it in years."

"Won't he realize it's broken?"

"No, why should he? It wouldn't be working now, he's already inside a TARDIS. Besides, he's a ninny."

"I thought he was a learned man…" Victoria said, "At least, he seemed so."

"No, he's just thinks he is. He goes around like a child stealing valuables just because he thinks they're shiny. Why, he cluttered up his own TARDIS with all sorts of things I'm sure he never paid for, flotsam and jetsam of a thousand museums," The Doctor snorted. "And he thinks that it makes him learned. He's little more than a cosmic pickpocket, really. That childish narcissism of his is the trouble, and not for the first time." He looked down at his wire-bound wrists again.

"Are y' sure there's no way we can undo that?" Jamie asked.

"Oh, don't worry about me! As long as I hold still, I'm in little danger. Once we've rematerialized, you can come cut right through them. The important thing now is you two get to that console box. Slide open the side…"

"And pull the coloured wire!" finished Jamie.

"Good lad. Off you go!"

---

"Here it is," Jamie said, pulling the metal box from where it lay against the base of the console. He pried at one side, then the other until one of them slid open beneath his hand.

"Can you see it?" Victoria asked, watching anxiously back down the hallway. They hadn't heard any singing from the bathing room this time, only water gurgling. There was a shuffling noise somewhere down the hall.

"Which one?" Jamie asked, peering into the hole.

"The coloured one," Victoria said impatiently. "Hurry, I think he's coming!"

"Och, there's two!" Jamie looked up at her with panic in his eyes. "Which wire do I pull? The red one or the blue one?"

There was no way either of them could know and no time to go back and find out.

"What are you doing? Get away from that!" came the voice of the Scholar. He was fumbling with his weapon, his robes half-askew from his interrupted bath.

Victoria shut her eyes, tight. "Pick one!"

"What if it's wrong?"

"Just…pick one! I don't know. Red!"

Jamie yanked the red wire from its place. A tiny arc of bright sparks flew from it, singeing his fingertips. The TARDIS gave a slight shudder and lurch sending Victoria stumbling over him.

--

_**Actual lyrics of an anonymous bawdy song from the early 1700s._


	5. Chapter 5

**5.**

The sparks and lurching subsided. There was a pause.

"Y' shoulda known better than to be standin'," Jamie observed.

Victoria slowly sat up. "We're still moving."

He got to his feet, reaching down a hand to help her up, but even as he did so the console settled into quiet. "Look," he said. "The middle part, it's stopped movin'. That means we're out of that Vortex now, right?"

"Yes!" the Scholar pronounced. They both whirled, backing against the console.

Their unwelcome guest stood in the doorway where he'd caught himself when the motion had hit, the weapon in his hand only vaguely pointing their direction. His clothing was damp and askew, his hair dripping a line of water down the side of his face. "The allotted time was nearly up; I doubt your foolish attempts at tampering made any difference." His voice was assured but his eyes flickered with doubt.

Watching the weapon waving about, Jamie carefully lifted his hands, hedging."Weell, we don' really know, but the Doctor said...."

"You spoke to him? I might have known you would, did he tell you do to that? He never stops meddling…"

"Him? Now just a minute…" Jamie protested. Victoria quickly put a hand to his shoulder, giving a little shake of her head. She turned towards the Scholar with downcast eyes.

"We really are sorry," she said such a meek and sincere voice that Jamie looked over at her with surprise. Her lashes fluttered slightly. "We only wanted to be sure he was all right."

"What did he tell you?" the Scholar said gruffly. He swiped at the drips on his cheek and sternly gestured at the box. "Did he tell you to do that?"

"He's_ that_ hard a taskmaster," Jamie lied in a crestfallen manner. "We were jus…"

"We were afraid," Victoria said at the same time. "And the Doctor can be _so_ unreasonable sometimes… " She looked up at him beseechingly. "Oh dear, you _do_ understand, don't you?"

The Scholar pursed his lips, bobbing his head in agreement. "No doubt, no doubt… but_ I _told you to…"

"We didn't really want to change anythin'," Jamie continued quickly. "Just to let you have your way because… because…"

"You'd shown him up," Victoria put in as Jamie faltered. "We, Jamie and I, we thought you were far too clever for him, and …"

"And if we let you have your way maybe Victoria and me wouldn't be hurt," Jamie finished.

The Scholar frowned uncertainly at this disconnected explanation then gestured at the console. "There! What does that readout say, the one by your hand, girl?"

She looked down at it. "It…it says Cambridge, sir."

The Scholar looked immensely satisfied. "Hah. I thought as much. You, boy! Open the door!"

Jamie obediently lowered his hands long enough to reach over and hit the door controls, which swung open to show an unremarkable muddy road dotted with rocks and barren winter trees. A few buildings could just be made out in the distance and a cold wind brought the scent of wet earth, sheep and woodsmoke.

They stepped back as the Scholar suddenly pushed right past them to the doorway. He simply stood a moment, then pulled up his sleeve and glanced at the tracking bracelet on his wrist. Stepping outside, he studied it again.

"At last. At last!" he cried, picking up the hem of his robes as he ran a few yards down the roadway then stopped to look at his wrist one more time. Jamie and Victoria watched, astonished, as he then ran, puffing along with his arm extended. He went along a rough hedge, then rustled and snapped off into a nearby copse of woods where the shape of buildings could vaguely be seen on the far side.

Jamie and Victoria looked at one another, then promptly collided as they both jumped to smack the door controls again. The doors of the TARDIS obediently swung shut.

"He's gone!" Victoria said, turning and embracing Jamie out of sheer relief. "He didn't check the year; it's the same year as before!"

"I thought you'd jus' make one up. I can't believe it. Not even a fare-ye-well!" Jamie said, hugging her back and giving her a little spin.

"But if it's the same year, why does it look different?" she wondered.

"Aye, that's not the alley, but I don't even care why." He reached down to draw his dirk. "Come on, quick, let's free the Doctor!"

--

The Doctor was watching for them, his anxious face turning to a beaming smile as they tumbled through the doorway.

"We're there!" Jamie said, as he crossed to his friend, knife ready to cut. "Just like you said!"

"And we've closed the doors," Victoria added. "Though I really think we ought to lock them if we can."

"He's left then?" the Doctor asked, holding up his wrists for Jamie to clip through the tightly-wound bonds. "Thank heavens for that. The miserable peacock, I was afraid he'd decide to just make himself at home here. Neither of you hurt?"

"No," said Jamie as he knelt down and began clipping through the filaments about the Doctor's ankles with the tip of his blade. "Though Victoria may have given him indigestion."

"I did not!"

The Doctor shook out his arms gratefully stripping away the cut ends. "Thank you, Jamie. Ah! It was a near thing when she gave that little jump, you know."

His companions stopped, staring in horror. Neither of them had even considered how the lurching of the TARDIS might have been affecting him. He looked at their expressions and laughed.

"Well, I managed anyway. No, no," he held up a hand as they both simultaneously began to apologize. "I think we're doing quite well, all things considered. Yes. Yes, we are. Let's go lock that door, shall we? Double-lock it, I should think." He paused, looking down at the bits of filament dangling from the conduits. "And gracious me, I've a bit of repair work to do before we can go anywhere, haven't I?"

--

"One thing I don't understand," Victoria pondered as they watched the Doctor disconnecting the remains of the box. "I thought it was supposed to go back to where we were, in the same year, in that same alley. We're out in some fields somewhere."

"Oh, well…. " he said, pulling the last of the wires out. "It was supposed to be the same time and place, but I'm afraid, er, the TARDIS sometimes has slight navigational difficulties."

"Y' don't say?" Jamie grinned, leaning back against the wall. He stuffed the last of turnovers into his mouth, talking around it. "I was surprised it was in the right year at all."

The Doctor gave him a sidelong look. "To be perfectly honest we weren't_ quite_ in the same time, it's still 1677 but early January instead of early December. We're nearly a year earlier."

"But it still said _Cambridge,_" Victoria noted.

"Because we _were_ in Cambridge. We were just… about two miles outside it."

Jamie snorted.

"Close enough," smiled Victoria. "Right, Jamie?"

"Oh, all right," Jamie relented. "She did a fine enough job of it. But, Doctor…he would've been there already! If we let him go out gallivantin' about a year earlier, why weren't there two o' him comin' at us in the alley?"

"Is the other one out looking for his TARDIS then too?" Victoria wondered. "Oh, that makes my head hurt just thinking about it."

"No, I don't think so," the Doctor said. "For one thing, he has that tracking bracelet. It has the rather annoying tendency to point in any number of false directions."

"So everything he sees will seem like a TARDIS?" Jamie smiled.

"No, not everything, but quite a number of innocuous objects. I never took the time to try to find out what it was homing in on, or if it was completely random. Still, it also does react to the presence of a time-vehicle. Presumably he persevered and will eventually stumble across it but in the meantime all of his meddling should even out."

"Why? What makes you think he'll find his TARDIS?" Victoria wondered.

"Because it was missing! Someone had to have taken it, someone who could get inside, someone who knew how to use it. Most likely himself."

"_He_ took it?"

"He stole his own TARDIS? I don't envy him trying to iron that one out." Jamie grinned, shaking his head.

The Doctor smiled to himself. "A bit of a loop but not quite a paradoxical one. And I suspect he never did quite fix his directional unit as it sounded to me like he hadn't really planned on being here in the first place. Who knows how many tries it will take him to find his way back. No, I think the odds are rather in Mr. Newton's favor that his life and studies will continue as they should have."

"Besides, don't we already know he failed in it?" Victoria asked.

"What do y' mean by that?"

"I think I know what she means," the Doctor said, taking her hand and patting it. "We know he failed because it didn't happen. Isaac Newton _was_ pulled away from his studies into alchemy, but then he returned to his proper sphere of scientific studies a short time later. He never published any papers on microtechnology."

"History bears it out," Victoria nodded. "And we were already a part of it."

"Now, that kind o' talk makes _my_ head hurt," said Jamie. "I'll just settle for believin' you."

"Victoria is essentially right. We still all have our part to play," the Doctor agreed, turning to the console. "Now! Let's see… where were we going before all of that? And yes," he said turning to Jamie even as the Scot drew breath. "It does make a difference how I steer her!"

"If y' say so," Jamie smiled.

--

FIN 


End file.
